


Unfurl

by Nununununu



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cunnilingus, Don't copy to another site, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Falling In Love, Getting to Know Each Other, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:41:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25378576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: There aren’t many other drinkers at this hour, but the bartender has amazing hair and a beautiful set of bracelets visible around one wrist beneath the cuff of her uniform jacket, and a smile for Vivienne, even if it’s almost entirely the polite one worn by the majority of staff. A little crook to one side of the other woman’s lips though, almost like she’s inviting Vivienne in on a joke, and there’s a spark of good humour in her dark eyes as well.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Stressed Businesswoman/Hotel Employee
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43
Collections: Femslash After Dark 2020





	Unfurl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tanaqui](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanaqui/gifts).



> For Tanaqui :)
> 
> (Originally posted 29/08; date changed for author reveals)

Her flight got in late, but Vivienne’s not jetlagged as much as she is stressed and overworked. Too many meetings in too many countries over too many days. Her head buzzing too much to settle down to sleep in this latest hotel room, as plush and tastefully decorated as it is. Her phone buzzes – confirmation that Robin, her PA, has been able to rearrange the morning’s meeting to a slightly later time; a rare concession to her exhaustion and one Vivienne will berate herself for later, when she doesn’t feel so awful.

As it is, right now she can only feel relief. Not enough that she actually feels better or has enough energy to pour herself into the bath in the generous ensuite – a luxury she would be quick to take advantage of if she didn’t feel so shitty – but enough that Vivienne makes a spur of the moment decision, digging out her flat shoes in place of her heels and double checking the key card is in her purse as she heads downstairs to the bar.

There aren’t many other drinkers at this hour, but the bartender has amazing hair and a beautiful set of bracelets visible around one wrist beneath the cuff of her uniform jacket, and a smile for Vivienne, even if it’s almost entirely the polite one worn by the majority of staff. A little crook to one side of the other woman’s lips though, almost like she’s inviting Vivienne in on a joke, and there’s a spark of good humour in her dark eyes as well.

“Long day?” She’s already reaching for a wine glass.

“What if I wanted spirits?” Vivienne can’t help but smile in return, although wine is precisely what she was going to order.

“Then I would serve you spirits,” The other woman, whose name turns out to be Juanita, pours her red wine so dark it looks black in the low lights of the bar, and raises an eyebrow when Vivienne’s attention settles on the grand piano, “Do you play?”

“Not for many years,” Vivienne shakes her head, but the temptation is there, as it hasn’t been since she took on the company, “Not today.”

“Tomorrow?” Juana asks, as if she knows Vivienne will stay that long.

Vivienne sips the admittedly excellent wine, “Perhaps.” She casts the piano another look.

She ends up returning the next evening, letting her fingers stray across the black and white keys. A little self-conscious at first – a lonely businesswoman serenading the few other drinkers and the bartender at the end of another long day – but then the world melts away in the way it used to and she’s aware of none of it, except for the feeling of Juanita’s gaze on her, now and again.

“It was a pleasure to listen to,” Juanita has a discreet gold stud in her nose today and a scarf twisted around her hair, and that spark in her eyes, the one that invites conspiracy, as does the intimate pitch of her voice, “Believe me, I wouldn’t say as much to anyone – we’ve had some awful would-be pianists in here.”

Friendly, she’s just being friendly – this is her _job_. Still, Vivienne finds herself studying the graceful arch of the other woman’s neck; the curve of her jaw.

“Try this,” Juanita pushes a drink her way. Vivienne raises an eyebrow, but tries it – it’s dark, rich with a hint of sweetness, making her want to lick her lips after she swallows.

“It’s good,” she smiles. Juanita’s smile in return isn’t that restrained polite one at all.

They continue much like this – Vivienne attends meetings during the day, speaks with clients and her staff, has Robin assign her just a little extra free time in the evenings and mornings however she chides herself. Stress still nags at her like a constant shadow, but Vivienne finds herself smiling more regardless, especially when the bar is quiet and Juanita wanders over to lean against the piano or to talk with her quietly with a drink of own.

“Try this?” Juanita lets Vivienne pour her a drink. They end up going for a walk outside when her shift is over, their scarves fluttering behind them in the dark streets, shoulders brushing in their winter coats as they draw nearer to each other in the pools of colour of the intermittent streetlights.

Vivienne doesn’t want to move on to another city, another country; she has no choice. Juanita tells her how she’s writing a novel, how she’s planning to go travelling, how she started training to become a doctor but realised she wanted to take some time out first.

“I always used to put such pressure on myself,” she smiles on a different, early morning walk, their breath misting in the predawn hush, “I think you might know what that’s like.”

Their fingers tangle together as Vivienne buys them a baguette to share from a bakery that’s just opening, the bread steaming with warmth.

“Will you come to my place?” Juanita asks the next evening, her night off, when Vivienne’s spent most of the day in the hotel with a stress headache worse than most. She’d worked online all the same, even if she did it while curled up in bed, until Robin had taken it upon herself to gently scold her for it, and Vivienne had insisted her PA also take some time off.

“Oh?” Vivienne glances at Juanita out of the corner of her eye, rather than giving into the impulse to immediately say yes.

“I’ve ingredients for cocktails there we don’t serve at the bar,” Juanita’s smile once again invites conspiracy, and her fingers tighten around Vivienne’s, “I thought they might act as a little stress relief.”

“I could do with a little stress relief,” Vivienne admits, although that’s not what any of this is about, is it, and hasn’t been since almost that first evening.

It _is_ relaxing, though, Juanita’s little apartment filled with growing things, plants almost overflowing from the balcony, the neat kitchen, even the bathroom. Juanita shows Vivienne how to mix the cocktail and Vivienne finds herself telling the other woman an anecdote about some particularly troublesome clients, about decisions her board keeps trying to nudge her into, about the fact Robin’s long been her best friend as well as her PA.

“I keep thinking I should promote her,” she finds herself confessing, “Give her half of the company if she wants it. She would do brilliantly. I just – don’t know if she would want it.”

“Only one way to find out,” Juanita bumps her shoulder against Vivienne’s.

“I just don’t know if _I_ want it,” Vivienne confesses in a murmur, into her drink.

“Why don’t you take some time off?” They’ve been sitting on the low long couch surrounded by notebooks – Juanita’s writing – but now they wander out to the balcony to look out over the city, “ _Actual_ time off and not conducting meetings from a hotel bed.”

“I haven’t travelled other than for work in years,” Vivienne objects, although she’s considering it and she can’t help but consider the fact that Juanita is planning to travel; that maybe, just maybe, the other woman might agree to some company. Or even just meeting up again somewhere.

“I _do_ want to keep the company,” Vivienne draws a breath in that feels clearer than any have in a long time, “But – some time off. Yes.”

“It doesn’t all have to fall on your shoulders,” Juanita says firmly, although her eyes have that spark to them again, “Why not come on an adventure with me?”

It feels perhaps inevitable, not too long after Vivienne joyfully says yes, that they end up straying towards Juanita’s bed. Her mouth is warm against Vivienne’s, rich with the taste of the cocktail and the promise of what is to come. Vivienne finds herself crowding in against the other woman, wanting to feel as much of her as possible, sliding her hands through Juanita’s beautiful hair, slipping her fingers through the lush dark curls.

“Like this?” She nudges Juanita down amongst the sheets.

“Like this,” Grinning, Juanita cups Vivienne’s breast under her blouse, a gentle squeeze that steals Vivienne’s breath, and encourages Vivienne’s hand to slide down her own stomach and under the hem of her skirt.

“ _Oh_ ,” Vivienne hasn’t touched herself in front of anyone before – hasn’t touched herself even, in weeks, too focused on work to want to give up the time. And yet she’d been angling for more time with Juanita since the moment she met the other woman, hadn’t she.

“Here, let me,” Juanita slides Vivienne’s blouse off, her skirt, tracing her own fingers over the lace of Vivienne’s panties before helping tug them down. Feeling herself stir, Vivienne bites her lip.

“Oh,” She moves her fingers over her folds as Juanita guides her, almost startled by her own wetness, by how eager she is.

“ _Yes_ ,” Juanita coaxes Vivienne into rising up onto her knees, into straddling her, her fingers slipping around Vivienne’s as, together, they investigate her labia. “I’ve got to –” Juanita pulls her hand back to finish undressing herself, wriggling under Vivienne, “Don’t stop touching yourself.”

“I – I won’t,” Vivienne lets herself circle her vagina, index and middle finger tripping over it, holding her thumb back from finding her clit. With her other hand she helps Juanita undress, thumbing at the other woman’s nipples, stroking the hollow of her throat, “You are lovely.”

“So are you,” Juanita licks her lips, and then she’s touching herself similarly, hand going down between her own legs, and the sight of it undoes something in Vivienne and she can only do her utmost to match the other woman’s pace as she lets her fingers slide into herself and rubs her thumb over her clit with a feeling that shudders right through her, as good as if Juanita had touched her there herself.

There’s something profoundly appealing about it, about watching the way Juanita tosses her head back on her pillow as she slips another finger into herself, her thighs shaking; about working another finger into herself in turn.

“Please, please,” Vivienne finds herself pleading eventually and Juanita brings her free hand up to caress Vivienne’s side, her stomach, her mons, seeking out Vivienne’s fingers, feeling the way they’re buried deep within herself. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Vivienne feels the first shudder of orgasm when Juanita circles the rim of her vagina, just as she had earlier, except for the fact it’s now stretched around her own fingers, feeling so very good and so full.

“Let me,” Juanita murmurs, and Vivienne can only nod, gasping, as the other woman works just the tip of her own index finger in alongside Vivienne’s, and then she’s coming, crying out, and crying out all over again when Juanita coaxes her into withdrawing her hand, only so that Juanita can have room to slide her own fingers in.

“All right?” Juanita asks, spreading them, pushing up against the still trembling muscles of Vivienne’s inner walls, and Vivienne nods even harder, the ability to speak deserting her when Juanita next works herself lower down on the bed so her mouth can reach Vivienne’s clit.

She draws Vivienne into a second orgasm like that, with her clever fingers and warm mouth, and Vivienne can only cling to the headboard and shiver for a long time after, until she gets her act together enough to kiss a path down Juanita’s body and relish taking her time in drawing the other woman into greater and greater pleasure in return.

“Let me,” She uses lips and tongue until Juanita’s writhing and then adds her fingers, her body humming with renewed arousal as Juanita clings to her and comes.

“Wonderful,” Juanita kisses her afterwards, lazy, indulgent kisses, “Vivi, that was wonderful; you are wonderful – I knew it from the moment I first saw you walk into the bar.”

“I’m not nearly as wonderful as you are,” Her cheeks warm, Vivienne chews her lip on her smile, her mind made up.

If Juanita also wants it – she’s not giving this up.

“Here, let me get us a drink,” Juanita says eventually, when they’ve kissed and kissed and Vivienne feels like she’s melting into the other woman, into the sheets. “Water, this time,” Juanita grins.

“Let _me_ get it,” Vivienne insists, and does, laughing when Juanita promptly tugs her back down after they’ve emptied their glasses.

They end up going to Rome that winter, just for a week, while Vivienne works with Robin when her former PA agrees to take on half the company. And then, a few months on, when spring comes and Juanita has finished her novel, Vivienne plays the piano during her lover’s last shift at the hotel bar, before they set off together to travel to all the places Vivienne only passed through for business before and Juanita has always wanted to see.


End file.
